


dreaming of eden

by orphan_account



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Denial, F/F, Surreal, mami you poor thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1578977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This place is as timeless as it is endless, and Mami knows she should be afraid but she isn't, because she could never be afraid with Madoka holding her hand. </p><p>(How do you fight something that gives you your deepest desire and uses it to twist you around its little finger?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	dreaming of eden

**Author's Note:**

> For Michael Saniyan. Crossposted from my Fanfiction.net account.

**one**

A few minutes after Sayaka is dragged screaming into the hordes of familiars, Kyouko’s spear catches in the empty frame of a shattered window. It jerks her out of a reckless spin that had been slicing out a circumference of inky blood through the waves of familiars and then they are upon her. She howls, a long and drawn out sound, not of fear but of fury, and then she’s drowning under a writhing ocean of pastel and her voice is muffled. A second or two later Homura is there, perched on a chunk of building, and then she’s gone again, leaving only an explosion in her wake.

The familiars, scattered by the grenade, regroup quickly. It’s like there was never a dent in their forces at all, and if Mami had the energy she would hate Homura even more for this, for knowing that Kyouko’s death was just one more meaningless casualty and treating it as such. As it is, she’s too numb with grief and adrenaline to even manage a sob, and so she continues fighting, shooting familiars down and watching more take their places.

Madoka huddles behind her in the shade of the ruins of a building, her eyes wide with fear and horror. She’s crying, curled in on herself, and Mami wants to go to her, to wrap Madoka in her arms and promise nothing will ever hurt her again.

She doesn’t, though. She and Homura are the only things standing between Walpurgis Nacht and brave, sweet, _stupid_ Madoka, Madoka who refused to evacuate like everyone else until all her friends were safe.

A familiar darts past Mami, heading straight for Madoka. Mami sees it happen out of the corner of her eye and twists, leaving her stomach vulnerable to attack. She shoots the familiar and its piceous blood splatters against the cement, but in that moment-

The second familiar cocks its head, its pigtails bouncing. There's blood is smeared all over its hands and on its featureless face. Mami crumples to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. There’s a familiar wetness seeping through the fabric of her dress, and she presses a hand to her stomach. It comes away red and Mami knows with a sudden clarity that the blood on her hands spells out her death in capital letters.

Madoka screams then, and then Homura’s there and restraining her as she kicks and sobs and tries to run over, like she could help by being closer, like the familiars wouldn’t slaughter her in a heartbeat. Even though she can’t stand the girl, at that moment Mami is achingly grateful for Homura.

And then Kyuubey appears and Madoka doesn't have to think twice, and suddenly Mami's wounds are knitting together and Madoka is a Puella Magi in a burst of pink light. She rises into the bleak gray sky, a soul gem pink and radiant at her throat. The lacy edges of her dress flutter at her thighs as she raises her bow high, aims it at Walpurgis Nacht. She’s beautiful.

Madoka’s power licks white-hot stripes up Mami’s skin as she clutches at her healing stomach, stumbling to her feet and away from the hungry familiars. She isn’t fast enough, but then Homura is there and hauling her back to safety.

Kyuubey's unchanging expression has never looked so self-satisfied, but Homura's face is ashen and furious.

"Damn you, Tomoe," she spits, and the words drop from her lips like poison. "You don't know what you've done to Madoka, do you?"

Mami doesn't know, but she assumes Homura means putting Madoka in danger. She bristles, pulling away. "Do you think I wanted Kaname-san to fight Walpurgis, Akemi? Why do you think I stopped her from doing this earlier?"

Homura's dropped the honorifics. She's angry, angrier than Mami's ever seen her before. But Mami is worried about Madoka, and worry is making her irritable. She's dropped the honorifics too, at least for Homura's name.

Homura's lip curls. "You don't know anything," she snarls, and fumbles for her shield, turning the knob with a deft, practiced twist of her fingers. With a flash of white light, she is gone, leaving Mami to stare in disbelief.

Kyuubey turns and begins to pad away, and Mami looks back up to Madoka, hovering in the air.

Madoka raises her bow, and fires. A beam of energy shoots from it like an arrow, hitting Walpurgis full on.

The Witch howls, thrashing, and Mami's breath catches in her throat. Madoka, regal and beautiful, lets loose another arrow, and then the Witch is gone, a grief seed falling from the sky.

A wide smile spreads across Mami's face. _They've done it._ It's over, Walpurgis Nacht has been destroyed, and she and Madoka can go home and eat cake in Mami's little apartment.

It's over.

And then Madoka turns and catches Mami’s gaze. There is something dark and terrified in her eyes. She shakes in midair, tremors wracking her body, and then she's falling, falling, falling-

( _no._ )

Mami runs, as if she can somehow reach Madoka in time to catch her in her arms. She can't.

Madoka hits the ground hard, sending up a mushroom cloud of dust and creating a crater in the cement. The shockwaves nearly make Mami stumble and lose her balance, but she keeps scrambling over broken bits of the city she'd once called home until she's vaulting over the side of the crater and sliding down to kneel beside Madoka.

( _nononono._ )

Other than the scrapes on her legs and a split lip, the fall left Madoka uninjured. But her eyes are wide and vulnerable and scared, her hands scrabbling at the ground. Her mouth opens in a silent gasp of pain.

She’s convulsing. The air swirling around them is heady with something dark and wicked, but Mami barely notices it. She pulls Madoka into her arms, hugs her close, but it doesn't help anything. Madoka's fingertips scratch against Mami's back, like she's trying to find purchase there but can't.

( _it's too late to find purchase anywhere now_.)

"Kaname-san, tell me what's going on." Mami feels as scared as Madoka looks. This can't be happening. Not now, not like this. Not after they’d _won_. She doesn't know what's going on but she wants it to stop, wants this to be a bad dream, wants to wake up in the morning and go to school and see Madoka and know that neither of them are going to die for a long, long time.

"I don't know," Madoka chokes out. She's breathing fast, but every breath she takes in is heavy and labored. "I don't know what's happening to me. I-It hurts, Mami-senpai. It hurts a lot."

"Kaname-san, listen to me," says Mami desperately. She holds Madoka by the shoulders, tries to sound convincing and not like a scared little girl lying in the aftermath of a car wreck. "Kaname-san, you're not going to die. You're not going to leave me, not now, not like this. Madoka!"

Mami says Madoka's name like a prayer, but whatever god she's praying to just isn't coming through. Madoka's body is feverishly hot, and she isn't even trying to stay quiet anymore: her gasps and whimpers of pain are all that Mami can hear, and it hurts, and Mami is _scared,_ so very scared.

Madoka's pupils are wide and dilated, her face unnaturally pale. She makes a terrified gesture to her throat, and then Mami sees it: Madoka’s soul gem, pitch black and starting to crack.

Mami fumbles for a grief seed. She has one on her, but when she presses it to Madoka's soul gem it doesn't do anything.

( _please don't leave me._ )

"I like it when you call me by my first name," says Madoka with just the barest hint of a smile through the tears. She gives a painful shudder. "You should do that more often, Mami-sempai."

Somehow that feels worse than anything else that Madoka could have said, because Mami isn't deluding herself anymore, Madoka is dying.

( _more often is never going to happen._ )

Mami chokes back a sob and realizes she's crying. She hadn't noticed. She opens her mouth, sees Madoka's eyes fluttering shut. "Mado-"

( _don't go._ )

The soul gem cracks.

And everything goes dark.

.

**two**

Mami comes to with a start, her hands digging into the green grass that lines the meadow floor and her eyes blinking blearily as she tries to adjust to the sunlight.

There is dirt on her hands and underneath her fingernails. She sits up and wipes her hands on her school uniform. Everything looks weirdly vivid to her tired eyes: the grass is greener than green, the sky is bluer than blue. It's almost like one of those dreams where you see everything in sharp definition but when you wake up you can only recall it in soft tinges of sleepy orange.

"Paradise," says an all too familiar voice from behind her, and Mami whirls around. She feels an overwhelming sensation of disorientation, because this shouldn't be happening. Because this girl died in her arms, because this makes no sense-

"Madoka?"

The girl has pink hair and pale skin, almond shaped eyes with dark pink irises. She can't be Madoka. Madoka is dead, just like everyone else.

But that smile. It’s unmistakable, and yet-

It’s Madoka but it isn't. Every detail is right, from the softness of her face and the pink of the hair curling against her neck to the curve of her lips. But Madoka’s eyes aren’t blank, and her lips don’t quirk up like they're being pulled up with strings.

The Madoka who is not Madoka sees her looking and immediately she is smiling sunnily. It still doesn't come out quite right but Mami feels more at ease, even though this is all _wrong, wrong, wrong._

"This is paradise," says the Madoka who is not Madoka and yet _is_. She is close enough for Mami to see every flutter of her eyelashes. She is still smiling that terrible, wonderful smile, and Mami doesn't know what to say. "Paradise, Mami-sempai. Isn't it beautiful? No more suffering. No more pain."

Mami knows that this is not Madoka, because the girl that was Madoka is dead, has to be dead. Mami watched her, held her as she convulsed and whimpered, looked into her eyes even when they both knew that it was the end, and that can't have been a lie. But-

If this is Madoka, then that didn't happen. Then Madoka is not dead. Then that ache deep in the center of her chest can go away, because _Madoka is not dead._

And there is nothing that Mami wants more than for Madoka not to be dead.

It is a feeble resolve, fragile as glass and spawned by suffering and the endless knowledge that _we're going to die, Madoka and I, there is no happy ending for us._

Deep down Mami knows that this is not Madoka. But pretending is good enough for now.

"It's wonderful, Madoka," says Mami, and Madoka gives a giggle that could sound right if Mami tries hard enough, and at that moment Mami is trying very hard.

( _if she tries hard enough and wishes, just like that, then, maybe, just maybe-_ )

And Madoka is suddenly Madoka and they are alone in paradise together.

Madoka holds out a hand and offers a smile. "Mami-sempai? Do you want to explore with me?"

It's an innocent smile, innocent and happy and kind and everything Madoka _. (Isn’t it?)_ It makes Mami's breath catch in her throat and her heart skip a beat.

She takes the proffered hand and smiles in return. Madoka's hand is pleasantly cool in hers ( _it's deathly cold, like the hand of a corpse_ ). "There's nothing I'd like more."

She pretends that she doesn't see the emptiness in Madoka's eyes or the way her limbs are stiff even as she pulls them both forwards.

.

**three**

They wander together, through fields of perfectly unblemished flowers in the height of full bloom and past vast lakes of water so clear that you can see right to the identical, evenly shaped stones resting at the bottom, rows upon rows of glossy black pebbles. Madoka is right, it _is_ beautiful.

There are mountains tipped with powdery, unmelting snow, and canyons where every crag and rock is flawless in its formation. There are lush valleys of flowering trees and immense deserts of golden sand that stretch on and on to infinity, beaches with palm trees and placid blue-green waters. They walk for what seems like forever and only an instant at the same time. They say nothing as they walk. Mami is content with the feel of Madoka's hand in hers, with seeing Madoka's face every time she turns her head. It is more than she'd ever dared ask for.

There is no whispering of the wind here, no rustle of leaves and no splash of water. There is almost no sound at all, save that of their footsteps on the ground.  It is like this place is as timeless as it is endless, and Mami knows she should be afraid but she isn't, because she could never be afraid with Madoka holding her hand.

But this Paradise is as strange and terrifying as it is lovely, and all that is keeping Mami anchored and unafraid is Madoka. There is something off about it, like someone tried to create the ideal world but made a mistake. Not a glaringly obvious one, but a mistake all the same.

Mami wonders if it even matters. Madoka is by her side. She is content with that.

And yet... this is wrong. This is so very, very wrong.

Mami thinks it's cruel, really, that even now, when she is the happiest she's ever been in her life, there is something strange and not quite right about it all, gnawing at her heart like a hungry caterpillar gnaws at an apple.

There is nothing in the clear blue sky. Not single cloud or even the sun, just vast expanses of blue, stitched in place up there because that was what someone thought the sky should be, a pretty ceiling for a pretty world.

And there is no life but for the plants and two girls walking on and on to who knows where. Even the plants don't feel quite right, more like a plastic imitation than the real thing.

But it doesn't matter, Mami tells herself. Madoka is by her side, and she is content with that.

They approach the center of that peculiar perfect world, and Mami can feel it like a chill that penetrates right to the bone marrow, worming its way right into her core. But Madoka's hand is in hers ( _why is it so cold_ ) and so she keeps walking.

It feels like days have past. Or maybe only minutes. Regardless, they walk on and on, the ethereal light from nowhere catching on the flaxen gold of Mami's hair and the dark pupils in the centers of Madoka's eyes. The creeping cold inside Mami squirms and twists, an itch under her skin that she can’t quite scratch.

And then, when they have reached the epicenter of that odd ( _sinister_ ) feeling-

They stop.

This part of the world is not as beautiful as the rest of it but just as strange and subtly menacing. Maybe it’s even more so.

The long grass they stand in is sharp-edged and feels like greasy plastic to the touch. The sunless, moonless sky is darker here, no longer a clear cerulean but more of a dusky indigo. The trees are twisted and gnarled, rising into the air like the wizened hands of some demon, trapped in the earth and reaching out for the sky. Mami understands that, knows what it's like to be forever reaching out for something you can never quite grasp.

She ignores the taste of wrongness at the back of her throat, like slick oil dripping down her throat and pooling in her gut.

"Mami," says Madoka. Her voice is pitched lower than it usually is, breathy, and her eyelids flicker closed briefly before opening again. "Do you love me?"

It's a heart-stopping question, something that Mami never thought she'd hear. She sucks in a deep breath -and even the air here tastes odd, heavy and oppressive but at the same time with a wild kind of freedom to it- and whispers, "Yes. More than anything."

And Madoka smiles prettily, and says, "Will you stay with me? Forever?"

Mami nods, unable to even breathe anymore. "Forever and always."

And Madoka leans in and tilts her head up and kisses Mami, gently, a butterfly kiss really, her hands tracing the nape of Mami's neck and slipping down to rest in the small of her back. Her lips are soft and fleeting on Mami's, her hands gentle and without calluses.

Her lips are also very, very cold, and there is something wrong with her flesh, not soft and warm but cold and clammy and-

Mami pulls her close and shakes away any doubts.

.

**four**

Time passes in the same way that it always seems to here, sometimes trickling away like viscous honey, sometimes rushing by like a leaf tossed over a waterfall, sometimes not moving at all.

And slowly Madoka begins to grind to a stop, like a windup toy with all the gears inside broken.

First it's only the fingers. One day Mami tries to take her hand and Madoka can't interlink her fingers with Mami's, can't even move them. She doesn't seem to mind, though, just regards them with that curious nothingness in her eyes.

After the fingers, it's the whole hand. Then the toes and the feet go, and-

Mami is too afraid to think of what comes next.

( _rigor mortis, it's what happens to a corpse after death, you're lucky she lasted this long.)_

There is something very, very wrong.

And yet-

And yet. Mami can't bring herself to leave.

Because she's never _had_ this before, never been able to hold Madoka like this before, and even if she knows it isn't really Madoka she's holding ( _or it is but someone else is holding the strings)_ , it's still almost too much to bear. She still doesn't know where she is, what this world is, why she's here.

She's almost not sure she cares.

And then, one day, she says to Madoka, "Do you remember outside? Homura and Sayaka and Kyouko?"

Mami isn't sure why she does it. She knows, knows that asking that question means the end, and she knows that Madoka who isn't Madoka knows it too.

Madoka who isn't Madoka turns to her, confusion twisting her face but not quite reaching her eyes. "What do you mean? I don't know anyone named anything like that."

And that is when the knife that's been buried in Mami's chest for a long, long time now finally twists, and it hurts more than anything she's ever felt before, even more than watching Madoka die the first time.

Because Madoka would _never_ forget any of her friends.

And this is not Madoka. Or at least, it's not Madoka anymore.

Mami looks at the shattered black gem in between the Madoka who isn't Madoka's fragile collarbones and the rot that's starting to creep in at the tips of her fingers and up her neck. Madoka Kaname has been dead for a long time now. She lets herself transform reflexively and feels the weight of a musket in her right hand. It's almost a relief, after all this time.

She holds the gun to the Madoka who isn't Madoka's chest, right over where her heart would be, and tightens her finger on the trigger.

The girl with the pink hair smiles in a way that's almost sad. Her eyes are still blank. "Are you going to shoot me, Mami-sempai? Do you think you can?"

Mami meets her eyes, and it hurts so _goddamn_ much, and she can feel tears stinging at her own eyes and a tightness in her chest. "I love you, Madoka. More than anything."

She pulls the trigger.

Madoka goes down like a sack of bricks, but they both know that she was dead before the bullet even touched her. The creature behind her, the Witch playing the cruelest of games, shrieks in fury and lunges forward.

Mami shoots it six times in a row. Kriemhild Gretchen howls in pain and Mami knows it's as good as dead, because this witch is weaker than any witch she's ever fought before but more powerful than even Walpurgis Nacht at the same time.

How do you fight something that gives you your deepest desire and uses it to twist you around its little finger?

Then she stops and even though she knows she shouldn't, kneels by Madoka. The girl ( _deadbodypuppetcorpseshutupshutup)_ smiles weakly at her, and Mami can see the ground through the hole between collarbones but Madoka still clutches at Mami with bloodstained fingers.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, and Mami knows this is impossible but she wants to believe this is real so badly even if she knows it's probably just another illusion cast by the dying Witch, a final trick to give itself time to heal. "I never got to tell you how much I love you, did I? For real, I mean. Maybe, if this had all never happened-"

And Mami lets the tears run down her cheeks, finally, and pulls Madoka into her arms and hugs her tight. Madoka speaks no more.

"I love you too," she whispers back. "More than anything, forever and always."

Then she shoots Kriemhild Gretchen again for good riddance.

.

**five**

Kriemhild Gretchen's barrier melts away, the imperfect perfect world fading back into the ruined wasteland that is Mitakihara Town and the bleak gray sky high above.

Somewhere, buried in the broken cement and shards of shattered glass, is the body of Sayaka Miki. Maybe, when the people come back and dig through the rubble, they'll find it. Maybe they'll give the body to some relatives from out of town. They won't find the body of Kyouko Sakura.

Kyouko has no living relatives, anyway.

And Homura Akemi, of course, has vanished without a trace.

But Mami Tomoe, kneeling in the center of the destruction and clutching a broken body to her chest as the tears stream down her cheeks, isn't thinking of Kyouko or Homura or Sayaka.

She's thinking of Madoka Kaname, and what could have been.

And then, when she's all cried out and there's nothing left but a horrible emptiness in the center of her being and the redness around her eyes, she slips off the ring on the middle finger of her left hand and picks up a piece of cement the size of her fist.

( _smash._ )

.

**zero**

"Madoka," says the girl with the flaxen hair as she sets down her teacup. She reaches out and runs her fingers along the other girl's cheek. The girl with the pink hair giggles. "Madoka, I love you. You know that, right?"

The girl with the pink hair leans over the table with a smile, taking the blonde girl's hands and pressing them to the place on her chest where her heart is. "I know, Mami. I love you too."


End file.
